


water under the bridge

by ymorton



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6044398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton/pseuds/ymorton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a piece from the <a href="http://ihavea1dbloghelp.tumblr.com/post/124004385090/so-im-confused-who-is-cooper-im-intrigued">omc verse</a></p>
<p>niall heads to london and gets advice from everyone he's ever known. takes place immediately after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5286758">get out get gone</a></p>
<p>this is the end of this part, but it's not the end of the verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	water under the bridge

**Author's Note:**

> title from the adele song 
> 
> come say hello [here!](http://ihavea1dbloghelp.tumblr.com/) and check the [tag](http://ihavea1dbloghelp.tumblr.com/tagged/omc) for fic chat and extras

 

He takes a cab to Rochelle’s, straight from Heathrow. She answers the door after five minutes, looking harried, hair tied up in a drooping bun.

“Alaia, please just get your bleeding boots on!” she’s shouting behind her, and Niall laughs as she turns to him and goes wide-eyed.

“Oh my _god_ ,” she breathes. “What’re you doing here? Oh my - come here!”

She pulls him into a hug, rocking him back and forth, and Niall grins into her neck.

“Back in town for a bit,” he says into her ear, taking an inhale of her familiar lavender smell.

“And you couldn’t shoot over a text first?”

“I know, I know.” Niall hoists his bag over one shoulder. “Was actually hoping I could stay for a couple days.”

“Here?”

“If you’ve got the room.”

“Are you, like, on the run? Is someone looking for you? Forcing you to come back to London?” She checks behind him, and Niall snorts, pulling a face.

“Stop it. I’m just - just wanted to see you, Roch, is that a crime?”

“I guess not. Course you can stay, babes. Here, come in, I’m actually like heading out the door to do X Factor- want to come along?”

Niall shrugs. “I’d come say hello.”

“Simon would love to see you. Grimmy too. Did you literally just get in?”

“Literally,” Niall laughs. “I came straight to you, Roch.”

“Well, Alaia’ll be well pleased. Ahh, speak of the devil-”

“Uncle Niall!” Alaia screams from behind her, and Rochelle turns, laughing, as Alaia launches herself at him. Niall swings her up, sits her on his hip.

“Hi, princess.”

“Hiiii.” Alaia squeezes him around the neck. “Did you come to visit me? Did you miss me?”

“Missed you so much. I was alllll the way in California and I thought, y’know, I gotta go and visit Alaia, I miss her too much.”

Roch snorts and turns away. “Gonna get my shoes on, we’ll leave in five.”

“Uncle Niall!” Alaia shouts directly into his ear, and Niall winces, adjusting her on his hip and swinging the door shut behind him.

“Yeah, darling.”

“Are you gonna come to do the telly with me and mummy? Pleeease come, please come, we can play monster chase.”

“Monster chase?”

“It’s where you’re a mean bad monster, and you chase me around, and I’m a princess who can fight with a sword and a bow and arrow and I punch you and beat you up.”

Niall snorts. “Sounds violent.”

“It’s fun!”

“Alright, I’ll play monster chase with you.”

She yelps happily and smacks a kiss on his cheek.

\---

“Where’s the boyfriend, then?” Rochelle asks, as they speed through London. Alaia’s talking to herself in the backseat, jabbing at the Ipad.

Niall coughs, looks out the window. “We split up, actually.”

“You- oh my God. _What_?”

“Watch the bloody road, Roch-”

“Alright, alright.” She peeks over at him again after a minute. “Shoot, I’m sorry, love. I didn’t know.”

“Technically we’re on a break, I s’pose.”

“Well that’s a bit different than splitting up.”

“I dunno.” Niall shrugs. “Think I really screwed it up this time.”

“Ohh, babe.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Niall coughs into his elbow. “It is what it is.”

“What happened?”

Niall fiddles with his seatbelt. Alaia’s still happily chattering away, oblivious. “Guess it was the kids stuff.”

“Like adopting?”

Niall nods.

Rochelle sighs. “I’m sorry, love.”

“It’s alright.”

“When’d that happen?”

“I, um. Couple weeks after I left for LA.”

She hums softly.

“He’s dating someone else,” Niall says, under his breath. “From his work.”

“Oh, _babe_.”

Niall chokes a humorless laugh.

“God. That is not fun.”

“Nope.” Niall leans his head against the window. The jetlag’s starting to creep in, a lead weight on his shoulders. He yawns, and Rochelle reaches over to squeeze his thigh gently, manicured nails digging into his leg.

“I’m really sorry, babe.”

Niall shrugs for what feels like the thousandth time, and shuts his eyes.

\---

Once they get there, Rochelle bustles off to hair and makeup and Niall makes the rounds, trying not to yawn in people’s faces as he says hello. Eventually they all clear out to actually do their jobs, and Niall settles onto a sofa, digs his phone out of his pocket.

He’s got a text from Harry asking if he got in alright, one from Lou that’s just a long string of emojis, and then one from Bressie. Niall grins and clicks it with his thumb.

_You in london chief? give me a ring we should meet up. X_

Niall types back - _Yea! Shall we get the lic together? When u free?? xx_

Alaia sprints by, giggling.

“Where y’off to, princess?” Niall calls, peering down the hall, but she’s gone, already wandered into someone else’s dressing room. It’s alright, everyone knows her here.

He kicks back, checks his phone. Bressie’s texted back.

_Whitmore’s due next week but we can drag her out one last time. Thurs work for you? My place?_

Shit, Niall almost forgot Laura’s about to have a baby. No idea how he could, since it’s all she tweets about, and Eoghan messages the group chat constantly, complaining about all her weird demands and asking their opinion on various names. Most of them are in Gaelic and utterly unpronounceable.

_Sounds good_ , he sends back. _Lemme know when i’ll see you soon head xx_

He can hear Alaia’s laughter coming closer, and he chuckles, standing up. Nick’s hot on her heels this time, bent over and giggling while she tries to escape him.

“Niall, save me!” Alaia screams, launching herself into Niall’s arms, and Niall scoops her up. Nick comes to a stop, breathing hard, eyes scrunched up from laughter.

“I’m a monster,” he says, reaching out to tickle Alaia’s sides. She shrieks and wriggles in Niall’s arms. “Apparently my hair is terrifying to small children-”

“I’m not a small child,” Alaia whines.

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling, you're right. You’re a big big girl.” Nick takes her out of Niall’s arms and she wraps her legs around Nick’s waist, hits his shoulder with her fist a couple times.

“No punches, love.”

“Punches,” Alaia mutters to herself, looking very focused while she hits Nick again. “Punchy punch.”

“So aggressive, Alaia,” Niall laughs, as Nick reaches out with his free arm to hug him.

“Good to see you, Horan. Back so soon? You’ve been in LA with Harry, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I have. I’m just, like, here for a bit,” Niall says vaguely. “Just got in today. Good to see you too, mate. How’s things?”

“Oh, wicked.”

“Niall’s staying at my house,” Alaia informs Nick. “It’s a sleepover.”

“Is he now? Well that’s fun.” Nick kisses her cheek and looks up at Niall. “How long’re you here for?”

Niall shrugs, crossing an arm over his chest. “Not sure, if I’m honest. Week or so.”

Nick arches an eyebrow, watching him over Alaia’s head. “How’s the boyfriend, is he here?”

“He- no. We're actually not, uh-” Niall shakes his head, feeling something clench in his throat. “Ehm, we can- chat later, maybe?”

Nick’s eyes widen and he nods. He sets Alaia down.

“Can you be the monster and chase me again, please, Grimmy?” Alaia says, tugging at his hand.

“I’ve got hair and makeup in a minute, darling, I really can’t. I’m already sweating like a pig. Here, Niall’ll chase you, won’t he?”

Niall’s so exhausted he keeps seeing spots whenever he closes his eyes, but he nods, and Alaia takes off, yelling so loud it echoes down the hall.

“How d’you fancy dinner at my place before you leave town?” Nick says quietly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “We can catch up.”

“Yeah, Grimmy.”

“I’ll text you.”

“Sounds good.”

Nick tilts his head. “How are you, really?”

Niall laughs, and it sounds uneasy. “I’m - I’m fine, Nick.”

“Fine’s not gonna work with me. I’ll need more detail than that.”

Niall laughs again. His throat hurts. “Yeah, alright. We’ll get into it. Buy a good bottle of whiskey.”

“Will do, love. But now I think Alaia’s waiting for you.” Nick kisses his cheek. “She likes to hide behind the sound equipment, check there first. Don’t forget to act monster-y.”

“Thanks for the tips.”

Nick smiles at him, and Niall turns away.

\---

Alaia shifts on the sofa, face digging into a pillow, and Niall resettles the blanket over her. She sighs.

Niall stares at the telly, volume on low, a pillow hugged to his chest. It's playing the end of some ridiculous cartoon movie Alaia's apparently been watching on repeat for about a month now. No wonder she's fallen asleep.

"Babe?"

Niall looks up. Rochelle's in the doorway, hair tied back, a mug of tea in one hand.

He waves.

"D'you want a brew, darling?"

"Nah, it's alright." He tugs the pillow closer. "Cheers."

"She down for the count?"

Niall looks over at Alaia, the sweet curve of her cheek, hair gone everywhere. One plump brown arm's hanging over the side of the sofa, limp and loose.

"Think so."

"She's knackered. Big day on set, and her Uncle Niall in town, well." Rochelle sets her tea down, comes over to scoop Alaia up from the sofa, huffing with the effort as Alaia mumbles unhappily at being jostled. "Lots of excitement."

She's getting big. Rochelle can barely carry her. It's silly, but it makes Niall's throat go hot. Farah'll be that big soon. Lucy too.

"Let me put her down, alright? Can get you set up for bed." Rochelle hoists Alaia further up her hip.

Niall doesn't process it for a minute, lost in his head, and then he says automatically, "Yeah, alright."

Rochelle stops at the door, looking at him.

"You alright, love?" she says softly.

Niall has no idea. He means to say yes, but he can't force it out of his mouth. He shrugs.

"Sit tight, I'll be back in a mo," Rochelle says, voice soft. "Or, you know what. How about you sleep with us tonight?"

Like they used to. It's been years. Niall's older now, and he shouldn't need it, but he nods quickly. It used to be his favorite thing, curling in the middle of Rochelle and Marvin's plush king bed, slipping into sleep while they bickered fondly about work over his head. Nothing felt safer than that.

His throat tightens again, and Rochelle clucks like she can tell how close he is to crying.

"Oh, love," she whispers. "It's alright."

Niall shakes his head.

"It is. Just- let me get her to bed."

She turns away.

Niall sits there for a minute, trying to breathe normally. Then he forces himself upright, carefully folds the blanket that was over Alaia, straightens the sofa cushions and puts the pillows back at either end.

He slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way down the hall.

Rochelle's bed is hastily made, one corner of the covers folded back, a pillow on the ground. Niall sets to making it properly, smoothing down the corners, tugging at the duvet til it's even on both sides.

Rochelle laughs, coming in behind him just as Niall's nearly done. "Dunno why you're making it when I'm about to get in."

Niall huffs a weak laugh. "Dunno why either."

"Can I hire you as a cleaner, love? Bet you'd keep this place in shape."

Niall tries to smile, and Rochelle puts a hand on his back.

"You," she says quietly. "- need a serious cuddle."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. Here, wash up and get in bed. Marv should be home in a half hour or so, unless Jake talks him into another pint."

"He won't mind?" Niall asks, unsteadily.

"Course not. Love having our Niall, don't we? Now go."

She rubs her hand down his spine and gently pushes him towards the en-suite.

When Niall's clean, he unzips his jeans, leaves them on a chair. Rochelle's sitting up with her Ipad on her thighs, glasses on, but she sets it aside as Niall knees his way onto the bed in his boxers and t-shirt.

"There you are, babe," she says, grinning. "Aw, I missed this."

Niall slides under the duvet, fumbles for a pillow. He lets out the heaviest exhale once he's settled, already feeling close to sleep. He's knackered too, apparently.

Rochelle scoots closer to him, reaches over to turn out the light.

The darkness sets in heavy and soft, makes him drowsy. He hasn't slept properly in so long.  

"D'you want to talk about it?" Rochelle asks quietly.

"Not really."

"Alright." She leans forward to press a kiss against his forehead, and then his cheek. She smells of familiar perfume and Alaia's lavender lotion, and when she reaches out to brush his hair off his face Niall gets choked up, a lump sitting hot in his chest.

He shuts his eyes to hide it, swallows thickly.

"Love you," Rochelle whispers.

"Love you too," Niall mumbles.

"It'll be alright. Hearts mend, darling, I promise."

Niall just nods, and she sighs, rolls onto her back.

They're both asleep when Marvin gets in. The bed dips under his weight, and Niall rolls over, blinking slowly.

"Lo?"

"Just me," Marvin says, as the covers shift, the mattress squeaks. Niall gets a whiff of beer and rich cologne. "Hi, Nialler."

"Hey Marv," Niall manages to say, still half-asleep, and he hums happily when Marvin ruffles his hair.

"Back to sleep, lad," he murmurs. "It's alright."

Niall's already there.

\---

He wakes up to Rochelle getting out of bed, squints against the bright light filtering through the blinds. Marvin's snoring behind him, a hand resting heavy on Niall's hip.

"Roch?"

She's shrugging on a dressing gown. "Don't wake up, babe, it's early."

Niall doesn't mean to, but he falls back asleep.

When he wakes up next the bed's empty but still warm, the sheets tangled around him. He sits up slow, head heavy from a good night's sleep.

The house is empty. Niall wanders into the kitchen, peers blearily at a sticky note on the counter.

_Morning Babe!!_

_We're at work Alaias at school then going to a friend's house. Use the BMW if you like! Marv'll be home at 7 me later :(_

_Xoxox Mummy Roch_

Niall makes himself breakfast, eats it, and crawls back into bed, where he promptly falls asleep for another five hours.

He wakes in the late afternoon, feeble winter sun filtering through the blinds. Makes himself tea, standing in the kitchen in his pants and a jumper, zoning out a bit until his phone buzzes on the counter and makes him jump.

It's Nick.

_Hi Horan!! Dunno what you're up to but you should come to tea at mine if you fancy I've got the night off we can really get deep_

_.. Into your boy troubles I mean ;)_

Niall rolls his eyes and taps out a response. _Weirdo. Yea id do tea tonight what time?_

He's slurping his tea when his phone buzzes again, and he picks it up. It's Harry this time. Niall thumbs at the corner of his mouth and swipes it open.

_Hi. hope LDN is good and what you needed. Feel free to say no but I'm lining up some press for the album and I'd love you to be involved_

_Doing an interview with Attitude mag next week, timing is flexible. Would really love if you shared the cover with me. Could be fun. What do you think? Promise I wont drag you back into studio. Xx H_

Niall's staring at it blankly when Nick texts back.

_730? Ill have carbs and whiskey. [SOS emoji]_

Niall huffs a laugh. _Sounds good grimmy._

To Harry, he says nothing. He'll just - he'll think about it. 

\---

Nick follows through on his promise, and by half-eight Niall's stuffed full of pasta and on his way to drunk. Nick matches him drink for drink, so Niall doesn't feel too guilty about it.

The conversation ends up on children, because that's all people talk about in London, apparently. The endless rain and bloody _children_.

"Your girl's almost ready to pop, isn't she?" Nick says, popping a piece of biscuit in his mouth. "Laura?"

"My girl?"

Nick grins loose. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, she's due soon." Niall steals a biscuit from Nick's plate. "Mental."

"It really is." Nick sighs. "I mean, it's _not_ , I guess. My sister keeps telling me I should be grateful I don't have ovaries that can go off or whatever. We're all old now."

"Speak for yourself, mate," Niall says, laughing when Nick pulls a face at him.

"Shut up, I know. You're still an infant. Jesus, when I was twenty-six I could barely keep a plant alive, let alone a human being."

Niall wants to laugh again, but he can't force himself. He takes another bite of biscuit, reaches out to refill his whiskey glass.

"Weren't you and your boy going to do that?" Nick says, nudging at Niall's ankle with his own. "I remember, last time. You were a bit… stressed."

Niall chokes a breath, vaguely close to a laugh. "Yeah, well. Guess that's why we split up."

Nick goes quiet, looking at him with big eyes. Niall waves a hand in the air and reaches for his drink.

"It's fine," he says wearily. "I mean, it's not, but whatever."

"'Required', I remember you said," Nick says softly. 

"He started filling out adoption papers without telling me," Niall says, slow and bitter. "And I freaked the fuck out."

"Ohh, shit," Nick murmurs. "That's rough."

"It's just-" Niall stops. Christ, he really is quite drunk now. The room feels very warm and small. "It's just. I don't even get it. I don't even get why the fuck he wants- wanted- I'm not, like-"

He stops. "Sorry. M'drunk."

"Me too," Nick says, face flushed red, eyes glassy and sincere. "Tell me what you were gonna say."

Niall takes a searing gulp of his drink, forcing it past the lump in his throat. "What if - what if I'm a shit dad?"

"Oh god, love," Nick murmurs. "You won't be."

"I'm- I'm, like. This doctor I saw, like. She said I've got intimacy issues." Niall always used to call it that, back when he went to one in London for a few months after the band broke up. _Doctor_ instead of _therapist_. Felt easier.

Nick clucks. "Everyone has fucking intimacy issues. We're all bloody messed-up one way or another-"

"And I'm not even- even close with my family," Niall says, miserably. "And- and I fuck people up. I just fuck people up cos I can't- I can't even stick around. I thought, like-"

He breaks off. Shakes his head.

"God, you're so- you're so hard on yourself, it's awful," Nick says softly. "You're not perfect, love. No one's perfect-"

"I just thought it'd- it'd be easier." Niall swallows hard.

"What would be easier?"

"Being, like. _Normal_." His cheeks are hot. "Being, y'know."

"Not mega-famous?"

Niall looks up at him. Nick's watching him knowingly.

"What if I'm never just- like. Happy?" Niall whispers.

Nick sighs.

"Like ever," Niall continues. "What if I'm just- fucked up forever."

"Oh, god."

"No, I'm serious. I'm serious. What if it's just - I got everything all at once and now I'm not gonna get anything."

"That's not how it bloody _works_ ," Nick says, fiercely. "It's not. You don't get a set amount of happiness in your life, that's mental. It comes and goes."

He puts his hand on Niall's shoulder, warm and heavy. "As utterly cliche as this sounds, love. You deserve to be happy. You do."

Niall reaches for his drink and Nick whisks it away with his free hand. "No more of that, Horan."

Niall glares at him, and Nick smiles sheepishly back.

"Not gonna let you drink yourself to death on my watch. There's a line between good drunk and puking-in-a-bin drunk, and you're about to cross it."

Niall stares at the glass, Nick's hand resting on the counter in front of it. There’s something dangerous in his chest now, a tight clench of pain the whiskey’s loosened.

"My brother," he starts, and he has to stop and cough. "He- he tried t'do that."

Nick's rubbing his shoulder slowly. "Do what now?"

Niall wipes a hand over his nose. "Drink himself to death."

Nick arches an eyebrow.

"Was, like. Six or seven years ago." Niall's voice is wobbly. He's told exactly two people this - Harry and Zayn. Cooper doesn't even know.  

Nick's watching him carefully. “What was, love?”

"He- he took a bottle of Vicodin with a bottle of whiskey," Niall says, staring down at the countertop, knee jiggling furiously. "Bobby found him in the- in the toilet in our house. Got him to the hospital in time to get his stomach pumped."

Nick lets out a quiet breath. "Oh. Christ."

"Me dad didn't even tell me til I came home for Christmas," Niall chokes. "He- he said he didn't want to worry me when I was on tour, like-"

He breaks off, a hot wave rising in his throat. Looks at Nick helplessly.

"Oh, fucking Christ," Niall murmurs, pulling Niall's head tight against his shoulder. "Shh, shh. God."

Niall sobs. It _hurts_ , claws its way up through his throat, hot and awful. It's been such a long time since he cried over that. Maybe he never did.

"Shh," Nick's mumbling into his hair. "Oh, god. I'm sorry, love. I'm sorry. That's - that's shit. That's so, so shit. Christ."

He presses his mouth to the top of Niall's head, lets him go gently.

"We've never even talked about it," Niall says, voice coming out thick. "Me and Greg. Literally never. He just acted like it was all good. And I didn’t bring it up."

Nick reaches over to grab him a tissue.

"Like. Like that's not normal, is it?" Niall chokes. "It's not normal."

Nick pushes the tissue into his palm, but Niall can't - he just can't yet. He has to say it, it's like poison. Like something he needs to vomit up.

"And, like," he mumbles. "Like. He - he didn't even try to say goodbye _._ Which sounds like so selfish, I know, I know, fuck."

He stops, sniffs in hard.

"Love," Nick murmurs.

"I'm his fucking brother," Niall says, voice so choked it's barely audible. "And he didn't even say goodbye."

Nick's quiet.

"Everyone always thinks I, like, won," Niall says. He has no clue what's coming out his mouth, but he's drunk and it's coming. "Everyone thinks I - I beat him or something, but god, fuck, I just- I wanted, like, just wanted him to not- to not hate me."

"He doesn't hate you," Nick murmurs.

"I want to go home and get a pint with my fucking brother and- and talk about the footy like we're fucking normal. Like we can stand each other."

Nick makes a soft sound in his throat. "Oh, love."  

"But I fucked it up. I fucked it up."

"God, no you didn't."

"Did."

Nick rubs his thumb over the side of Niall's neck, soft. "You didn't. Christ, at the risk of sounding _exactly_ like my mum, it's a long life. You've got time to sort your shit out. You've got your whole lives to- to talk to each other, if that's what you want."

Niall shrugs. Scoots his chair closer, hoping Nick won't say anything, and he doesn't. Just puts an arm around Niall's back, pulls him in close.

"Y'know, my mate's older sister died, a few years back," he says, very quietly. "OD'ed when she was twenty-five. Pix doesn't like to talk about it, really, but. They weren't that close, you know? If - if she had more time with her-"

Nick stops, voice breaking. He sniffles, and Niall tenses up, tries to breathe. "Soz. Just. What I'm saying is - is nothing's over, Horan. You know? He's still alive. You've still got time, you just have to use it."

Niall doesn't know what to say.

"Sorry about your friend," he says, weakly.

"Yeah." Nick sniffs in again, rubs Niall's back. "Well. Things are shit sometimes. There's no, like. Cure for it. Just got to keep on and try to be happy."

He heaves a breath, straightens up in his seat.

"I honestly do sound like my mum, though," he says, huffing a laugh. "It's uncanny."

Niall snorts, scrubbing at his nose with a tissue. "Well, your mum's quite wise then."

Nick smiles over at him. "They tend to be, don't they."

Niall looks away. Maura's probably wise, but Niall wouldn't fucking know, cos he never talks to her about anything other than the weather or what’s growing in the back garden.

He bites his lip, and Nick unfolds himself from the stool, back cracking.

"Make you a cup of tea?" he asks, yawning.

"Thanks, mate," Niall says quietly, and Nick flicks the kettle on.

Niall watches him, Nick's back turned. Nick's jumper has a hole at the hem and keeps falling off one freckled shoulder. His feet are bare, poking out from a pair of worn-in jeans.

"Are you happy?" Niall asks, because it's all he's thinking, watching him. He goes red, but he steels himself.

Nick clucks in his throat, not turning around. "Think so. Like, most of the time. I’m a pretty happy person in general."

Niall nods, swallowing thickly. He steels himself for his next question, thinking of that text on his phone he still hasn't replied to.

"Are you - are you in love with Harry?"

Nick's shoulders go up for a moment, until he lets out a breath. He still doesn't look at Niall. "Why d'you ask that?"

"Just wondering."

Nick pours out their tea, silently. Niall waits. Tears a strip of fingernail off, wipes it on the back of his hand.

Finally Nick turns, and sets Niall's tea in front of him.

"Harry and I, like. It's complicated, I guess. Christ, what a stupid cliche. Maybe it's very simple, actually."

He shrugs with one shoulder. "He's the only person I've never gotten sick of."

Niall stares at him, as Nick sips his tea.

"You've never gotten sick of him? How's that possible? It's _Harry_."

Nick laughs softly. "Not properly. Not in the way I - I get sick of other people. I'm never tired of seeing him."

He pushes his glasses up his nose. "I dunno if that's, like, love."

He shrugs again. "All I know is he's always going to be there. Maybe not properly there, like, in the same place, but he's just - he'll always be there. It's weird to say that, very cliche, right, but. S'how it feels."

Niall puts his elbow on the counter, chin in his palm. "I don't get that."

Nick breathes a laugh. "Me neither, to be honest."

"What if he gets married?"

Nick shrugs. "He probably will. When he's done being married to the world."  

"You won't mind?"

Nick smiles with half his mouth, rueful. "Never said I wouldn't mind. But he's not mine."

Niall watches him.

"He could be," he says. "I- I heard you, when Coop and I were here. He said he wanted a boyfriend."

Nick laughs, strained. Niall pushes on.

"He said he wanted you."

"Harry says a lot of things," Nick says, sounding resigned. "Think that's the first time he's said that?"

"You don't want him back, then?"

"I've never in my entire life stopped wanting Harry," Nick mutters. "Not once. Wish I could, it’d make it easier, wouldn’t it."

It's strangely serious, and Niall looks away, uncomfortable.

Nick coughs. "But it's not- it doesn't work."

"Why?"

Nick looks away from him. "Cos it just doesn't. We don't fit like that."

Niall sips his tea. "What was it you said to me? Long life?"

"It's not the same. Harry and I, we've tried it. We've tried and it doesn't work."

"When'd you try it? When he was in a boyband touring for ten months out of the year? When he was what, like, eighteen? Wow. Nothing could _ever_ change from then, huh."

Nick glares at him. "Shut it. I'm s'posed to be the one giving advice here."

Niall snorts, and Nick bites his lip in a grin.

"Hey," he says. "D'you want to stay over? No funny business, I promise. Just think Roch might be a bit more worried than it's worth if she sees you all drunk and teary. You know how she gets."

Niall sips his water slow, soothing the ache in his throat.

"Yeah," he says once he swallows. He doesn't think it's just about Roch, but the truth is he wants to stay, so who cares. "Thanks, Grimmy."

"I'll clean up, you get ready for bed. Mind letting the dog out?"

"Yeah, mate."

Nick ruffles his hair, smiles sideways. "Cheers." 

\---

Niall's curled in bed scrolling through his phone by the time Nick pads in, gently shutting the bedroom door behind him.

"Mind if I turn the light out?" he asks, reaching for the lamp by his bedside.

"Go for it," Niall says muzzily, throwing his phone down and tugging the duvet up higher.

"Alright." The room goes dark, and Niall listens as Nick slides down into bed, gets comfortable. He lets out a little sigh.

Niall echoes it. He should just fall asleep, but instead he shuts his eyes hard and says, into the quiet, "D'you ever wish you weren't gay?"

Nick's very still for a minute, and then he turns over to face him. Niall can feel his gaze. "What?"

Niall squeezes his eyes tighter. "Never mind, I'm sorry-"

"No, I- no, not never mind." Nick pushes himself up on his elbow. "Never too late for a sexuality crisis. C'mon, out with it, Horan. Get it all out."

Niall swallows.  

"I was just asking. It's stupid, I know-"

"No, it's not." Nick watches him. "Makes sense. Things would be easier, wouldn't they?"

Niall's stomach is turning, with the same kind of shame he felt when he made Cooper cry, that night before he left. He looks up at the ceiling.

"I don't want to be straight, though," Nick says, sounding soft. "Dunno why exactly. But like, does it matter why? If it's just how we are. Might as well enjoy it."

Niall's heart thumps at the _we_. It still makes him edgy, for someone to say it out loud like it's a fact. How _fucked_. How fucked that he can't hear it without cringing.

"Sometimes I think I'm, like-" he stops, because his voice is going hoarse. "I told Cooper I wished I didn't like blokes."

Nick's quiet for a moment. "Can't imagine he took that very well."

"He cried," Niall says, small, and _he_ almost cries, right then. Jesus. He sucks it in, lets out a shaky breath. He can't start all this over.

"Oh, love," Nick mumbles, like he can tell how close Niall just was to sobbing. He fumbles a hand out to pat at Niall's chest. "It is never _ever_ fun to make a boy you fancy cry. You think it will be cos you think they deserve it and then it's awful."

"I wasn't trying to-" Niall slings his wrist over his face, sniffles in hard. "I just. Sometimes I think I'm, like. Fucked up. From, um. From not being able to- to-"

Nick sounds soft when he says, "What, to be out?"

Niall turns over, away from him, scrambling under the duvet. He feels better like that, with his back to Nick. A bit less like he's going to start weeping. Nick just - knows things. Nick knows so much more about what it feels like than anyone else does. Harry or Cooper or anyone. Niall likes it and it scares him at the same time.

"Niall."

"Sorry." Niall scrubs at his leaking nose. "Fuck."

"It's alright." Nick puts a hand on his arm, strokes back and forth gently.

"No one could _ever_ know," Niall says, sudden and choked. He shuts his eyes. "No one could know. If I shagged someone on tour they'd have to sign an NDA. Even for a fucking handjob. It got to be so it wasn't worth it, unless I was in Australia with Cooper. Other than that, like. What's the fucking point? Getting off's not worth getting in the papers. Nothing was worth anyone finding out. Rumors, anything. Couldn't have it."

He stops. Nick's still rubbing his arm, very quiet.

"Sometimes I was jealous of Harry," he says, low. Low because he's never said this to anyone. Not Cooper, not his old therapist, not one of the lads. "Cos - cos people thought he wasn't straight. He got to do whatever he bloody wanted and people ate it up, like. But I- they didn't want me to be-"

His voice is unsteady. He has to stop. Clear his throat. Nick squeezes his arm.

"It's like I'm normal except for that bit," he says miserably.

Nick tuts gently in his throat. Niall swallows hard.

"I know that's fucked up. I know it's fucked up-"

"Christ. Stop thinking you're fucked up, love. You spent six years in the closet while half the bloody planet watched your every move. Good god, everyone on the planet knew I was bent and I still held Pixie's hand in public for three years and let tabloids say we were fucking."

He huffs a laugh. "It's bloody scary to be open about it. And you're all laddy, it's worse for you. People don't like when one of the laddy ones turns out to like a bit of cock."

Niall chokes a wet laugh, and Nick echoes it, lets his hand drop off Niall's shoulder.

"But, like, the thing is," he says. "There's nothing to be done about it.  It can't be changed."

He lets out a sigh. "Can't be changed that you had to hide it for six years. That's shit, love, it is. It's not fair."

Niall sniffles in hard.

"The weird thing is it's quite _fun_ ," Nick says, letting out a laugh. "To be gay. I mean, some parts are not fun. Like a million twelve year olds on Twitter telling me I'm a pedophile with AIDS, I'll admit that bit's not fun."

He laughs. Niall's got no clue how he can laugh at that.

"But, like. Having sex with blokes, that bit's _wicked_." Nick snorts. "Or just- I dunno how to describe it, but it's nice to be, like, different. Ugh. That sounds very soppy and annoying. Straight people are bloody boring, is what I’m saying."

Niall sniffs out a laugh. "Really inspirational. I feel changed, mate."

"I'd hope. I've only got about a century of experience. Came out the womb with a stiletto heel, me."

God, Niall wants it, the tired fond way Nick talks about himself. Niall wants to feel like that.

He rolls back over onto his back. Nick's still propped up on an elbow, idly fidgeting with a thread on his pillow. He looks at Niall, eyes dark.

"Do you want to date women?" he asks, plainly, staring him down. "Want to get a girlfriend?"

Niall looks up at the ceiling, away from Nick's knowing gaze. "No."

"Are you attracted to them? D'you want to sleep with them?"

Niall's voice goes shaky. "N-no."

Nick's watching him. "Do you like men?"

Niall shuts his eyes. "C'mon, why're you asking me this?"

"Cos it's important. It's important you can say it." Nick reaches out and squeezes his wrist. "I mean, I'm genuinely trying not to be like some old wrinkly gay guru, but. You're gay, love. And it helps sometimes to say it out loud. Makes it a bit less scary, when it's not just in your head."

Niall wants to say, _I'm not scared_. He'd be lying, though.

"Niall?"

"This is stupid, mate." Niall keeps his voice blank.  

Nick sighs, and rustles away, tugging the duvet up. "Alright. Sorry. I'll leave you in peace."

He shuts his eyes and goes quiet.

Niall can't. He can't shut his eyes and he can't fall asleep. Christ, what's _wrong_ with him?

"Niall," Nick says, sounding tired. "I can't fall asleep when you're having a breakdown over there. You're giving me a stress ulcer by proxy."

"I can go on the sofa," Niall says, scrambling upright.

"No- no. C'mon." Nick tugs at his wrist. "Get down here."

"No, it's. It's just my- stuff, like. I won't be able to fall asleep. It's like that sometimes."

"Your stuff's no match for me, alright," Nick mumbles, rolling Niall onto his side, his back to Nick's chest. "I once got my friend to pass out while she was still rolling. She kept humming Avicii in her sleep. I'm _proper_ good at calming people down."

Niall huffs a laugh. Nick's breathing against the back of his neck, a hand over his hip, and it reminds Niall of- other stuff. Cooper.

That should make him sad, but instead he feels himself exhale, slow. Feels like the first time he's had a proper breath in days.

"Dated a boy like you once," Nick murmurs. "Well, dated's a strong word. He was all fidgety, though. Even after a good shag."

"I'm useless after a good shag," Niall mumbles.

"Mm, I remember." Nick laughs. "But this boy, like. He liked if I held him in my lap like a baby. Said it like… reminded him of his mum?"

"No fucking way."

"Yes." Nick's giggling against his neck. "I know. I thought he was joking, cos like, he's a comedian. But nope. Genuinely wanted it."

"Did you do it?"

"Course I did." Nick rubs his warm hand over Niall's hip. "I'm open-minded, me. The things I've done, Horan, you wouldn't believe."

"Tell me," Niall says drowsily.  

"Let's see." Nick's fingers tap gently against Niall's belly. "This boy wanted to come in my chest hair. Like that was his specific request."

Niall chokes, eyes coming open. "Shut up."

Nick's laughing. "You said you wanted to hear!"

"Did you do it?"

"Love, I always do it. No point in even asking. I'm easy."

"S'there anything you, like, don't do?"

"Mmm," Nick hums thoughtfully. "I don't piss on people. It's not my thing.”

Niall wrinkles his nose. "Fair enough."

"But other than that. Well, within reason. Don't mind tying someone up if they like it. Or letting them do me."

"You ever do that to Harry?" Niall asks, voice cracking a little.

Nick murmurs a laugh, patting Niall's belly. "Wouldn't you like to know? Nosy Niall."

"Shut up."

"Why, have you?" Nick exhales against his neck. "You and Cooper?"

“Not really.” Niall stares at the wall. “Not with like, rope.”

Nick snorts.

“It’s more…” Niall thinks of how to say it. He shouldn't be saying it all, but Nick’s room is dark and hushed and Niall feels like he could say anything. “More, like, just him doing it. Not with ties and shit.”

“Well, he’s got biceps,” Nick says. “Can probably hold you down quite handily, yeah?”

Niall goes hot all over, mumbles out- “Yeah.”

“It’s nice, innit,” Nick says quietly. “When you find someone who’s pervy the same way you are.”

“Pervy,” Niall laughs.

“You know what I mean. Kinky, whatever.” Nick sighs. “It’s nice.”

Niall swallows, eyes closing. “Yeah.”

There’s a long quiet before Nick says, “You miss him?”

Niall’s throat goes tight. He nods.

Nick strokes a hand down his side.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs.

"It's not just- him." Niall sniffs hard. "I dunno. LA was - I did - I did some stupid shit."

"I mean, who doesn't, in LA."

"Seriously, though." Niall shuts his eyes. He doesn't know how to say it, the gnawing feeling in his stomach he gets when he thinks about the last few months. "Harry's so- happy there. It's fucked."

"God, I know." Nick sighs.

"And I- I felt-" Niall stops. "Just felt shit."

His voice shakes, and Nick squeezes his hip like he knows.

"Hey," Nick says gently. "So it was shit. Sometimes that’s what you need. For everything to be a bit shit for a while.”

Niall laughs, choked. “How’s that work exactly?”

“Can’t figure out you need to change summat unless you hit rock bottom, can you?” Nick rubs his side. “That’s like, life. Some people are all get up and go, like way too good at getting their shit together. My friend’s like that. Can lose a half stone in like a week. Just stops eating bread. I’m honestly baffled by her willpower.”

Niall huffs a laugh.

“But sometimes you need a kick in the arse.” Nick shrugs. “Sounds like LA kicked your arse.”

Niall laughs again, but it sounds like a sob. Nick wraps an arm around him from behind, presses a kiss to the back of his head.

“No more tears,” he says, against Niall’s ear. “Nope. No more crying now, love.”

“I won't,” Niall mumbles, and Nick pats his shoulder and lets him go, rolling away.

They're both quiet for a minute. Niall's not sure if Nick's asleep, when Nick coughs and says, "It'll pass, y'know. The feeling. Like, feeling shit."

"Hearts mend, Roch told me," Niall says bleakly.

"Oh, Ms. Humes. Always ready with a cliche."

Niall huffs a laugh. "She's good that way."

"She really is." Nick reaches out to rub his shoulder again. "That's one thing you've got going for you, love. Lot of people who love you quite a lot."

Niall doesn't say anything. He knows that. It's just- sometimes he doesn't feel like he's worth all that love. He bets a hundred quid Nick knows bloody nothing about how that feels.

After a minute Nick's breath evens out, slow and gentle. Niall listens to him for a while, eyelids growing heavy.

He's nearly asleep when his phone buzzes with an email. It's just some update email on footy scores, but it reminds him.

He opens Harry's text again, reads it a couple times, rolls onto his back and taps out a slow response.

_Hey haz. Londons good but probably wont be staying for long._

_Im up for the interview, lets do it. Send me the details. Miss you . Xxx_

He hits Send and sets his phone down decisively, flicks it on silent, not waiting for a response.

After a while, he follows Nick easily into sleep. It's almost a surprise.

\---

In the morning he heads to the salon, tries to surprise Lou at her desk and utterly fails due to the giant mirror on the wall. She screeches at his reflection, spins around and pulls him into a hug.

Niall snorts, rocking her back and forth. “Hiii, Lou."

“Hiya salt,” she laughs, leaning back and ruffling his hair, wincing. “What the hell have you done to yourself?”

“I was pretty trashed, if I’m honest.”

“Bloody hell. What have I always said, no major hair decisions when you’ve been drinking.”

“I know, I know.” Niall hugs her again, hard. She smells like hairspray, sweet and familiar. “Missed you.”

“You too, Aussie boy. How’s things?”

“Bit shit.” Niall chokes a laugh. “To be honest.”

Lou rumples his hair, mouth twisting. Niall pouts back at her, and she laughs. “Well, let’s fix the hair first, then we’ll figure out the rest.”

“Sounds alright.”

Lou tweaks his nose, and pushes him down into the chair.

\---

Two hours later, his hair’s been toned down to a nice warm blonde and Lou’s running a round brush through it as she blow-dries, humming to herself. Niall shuts his eyes and enjoys it, the tug on his scalp and Lou’s off-key singing. Been a long time since he was in her chair.

The blowdryer switches off with a clunk, and Lou ruffles a hand through his hair and says, “Take a look, babe.”

Niall opens his eyes.

Jesus, it’s- it’s weird. The blonde before was weird too, jolted him every time he caught his gaze in a mirror, but this is- it’s like he’s back in the band, like Liam’ll be sliding into the chair next while Niall goes and does warm-ups. He looks younger. For a moment there’s a fierce ache in his chest, somewhere between nostalgia and regret. He swallows and it fades away.

“Christ,” he says, weakly. “That’s weird.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I mean- it looks good, looks real good, Lou. Thank you. It’s just.” Niall laughs and it comes out strained. “It’s been a while, y’know?”

“You always looked good blonde.” Lou ruffles his hair. “Sets off your eyes. What do you think?”

“I like it. I really like it.”

“Me too. Now you’re the Niall I know and love.”

He can’t stop looking at himself. He finally tears his eyes away, face flushing.

“Wanna take a selfie?” Lou says, waggling her eyebrows.

“Why, you wanna be in it?”

“Obviously. Get that phone out.”

Niall huffs a laugh, fumbles his phone out of his pocket. “Alright, get in.”

Lou leans over the back of the chair and sticks her tongue out. Once they’ve taken one they both approve of, Niall opens up Instagram.

_Thanks for sorting me out Louise .. @louteasdale #thatsbetter #dontdrinkanddye_

“Oh, clever,” Lou laughs. “Seriously, though, no more DIY bleach. You promise?”

“I promise. Learned my lesson.”

She ruffles his hair gently. “You’ll be alright, salt.”

Niall hopes so. He really bloody hopes so.

\---

Laura screams in joy when he lets himself through Bressie's front door on Thursday. She beckons him over from her place of honor in an armchair, belly big in her lap.

"Look at you!" she yelps, leaving a smear of lipstick on his cheek. "I missed you, darling."

"Missed you too." Niall stiffens when she guides his hand to her belly, eyes bright. "Wow, you're- it's close now, huh?"

"Wait!" She shushes him. "She was just - oh, fucking shite, she was _just_ kicking. Literally right before you came in. Babe! Wasn't she just kicking?"

Eoghan pokes his head out from the kitchen. "You missed it, mate. Tough luck."

"Yeah, good to see you too," Niall laughs, giving him the finger.

"Want a pint?"

"Of course."

Eoghan grins and ducks back inside. Niall looks back at Laura when she tugs his hand.

"How's your trip been, love?"

"It's been good, been good."

"So glad you could make it before-" she motions at her belly. "You know. Oh my god, babe, be bloody grateful you can't get pregnant. It's honestly the worst."

"Well, y'look lovely."

She pulls a face at him. "What a load of bollocks. I'm a whale."

"You're not." She is, a bit, but she still looks nice. She looks happy.

"Oh, stop." She giggles. "Honestly, though, I know it's weird, but Eoghan's kinda into it? Like, the other night, he'd had a few to drink, and I was in bed-"

"Laura, do I want to hear this?"

"I mean, probably not, but that's not gonna stop me."

"I'm gonna stop you," Eoghan says, handing Niall a beer and leaning down to press a kiss to Laura's cheek. "Cos you're about to embarrass me."

"I would never."

"It's your fucking life's work, Whitmore."

She sticks her tongue out at him, pulls him in by the back of the head, and Niall looks away once they start snogging. Great. He's happy for them, has been since they stopped fucking around and got it together, but that doesn't mean he needs a front-row view.

"There he is," he hears, and he looks up to see Bressie, grinning. Niall sets his beer down and lets Bressie wrap him up in a bear hug, warm and tight.

"Hey, Brez," he mumbles against Bressie's chest.

"Hey, mate." Bressie smacks a kiss to his cheek and lets him go. "Good to see you."

"You too."

"You eaten?"

Niall shrugs. "I could eat."

"Always, right?" Bressie grins, thumps him on the back. "C'mon, then."

Niall gets set up on the sofa with a plate of chicken and spinach, and Bressie talks his ear off about his latest triathlon.

"Fucking _freezing_ water," he says, gulping his beer. "Took me ten minutes to get on the bike, couldn't stop shaking."

"Jesus, that sounds awful."

"Oh, it was good, it was good. Makes you feel _alive_."

Niall swallows a mouthful of chicken. "Mental as always, Brez."

Bressie laughs, squeezes his shoulder.

“So," he says. "Who've you been seeing down there, chief?”

Niall looks up from his plate, already wincing. "We, uh, we split up, actually-"

"No, not-" Bressie pulls a face. "Sorry, mate. I meant therapy. You said you'd started seeing someone."

Oh. Niall did say that, once, on an endless phone call where Bressie kept bloody talking about anxiety and SSRIs and group therapy and blah blah bloody blah. He’d say almost anything to get Bressie to shut up, sometimes. He loves the man, but Christ can he go _on_ when he’s passionate about something.

He wracks his brain as he sets his empty plate down. “Oh. Yeah. I, uh- I was, for a while, but the timing didn’t work out.”

Bressie grabs Niall’s hand off his knee and inspects his gnawed-down nails, and Niall yanks his arm away, shoves Bressie’s shoulder.

“Don’t, Brez.”

Brez raises an eyebrow, and Niall takes another gulp of his drink, starts turning away.

“Hey. _Hey_.” Bressie sighs. “C’mon, lad. Timing's no excuse. ”

“I’m fine.” Niall feels a queasy sort of clench at the lie. “Wasn’t doing anything for me.”

“And how long did you try it out for? You've got to put in the effort, Niall, it doesn't come easy.”

Niall swallows thickly.

“C’mon.” Bressie squeezes his knee. “You should give it another go. Y’know, my therapist has me on these new meds, lot lighter than the last round. Been really good for social stuff, haven’t had a panic attack in like-”

“Fuck _off_ , Brez,” Niall snaps.

Bressie leans back, looking a bit like he’s been slapped.

“I just- I’m not in the mood,” Niall says, voice going small. “To talk about all that shite. Can we just have a bloody good time with our friends, Christ.”

Bressie shrugs, jaw clenched. “Fine.”

He stands up, reaching for his beer.

“Brez-”

“It’s fine.”

Niall sinks back into the sofa as Bressie disappears. His mouth tastes like acid, and he starts when Eoghan squeezes his shoulders with both hands.

"Get into it with the big guy?" he says knowingly in Niall's ear. "C'mon, let's have a fag, let him cool off."

"Thought you quit."

"Never said that. I said I'm _planning_ to quit."

Niall rolls his eyes, but he follows Eoghan outside.

"Laura and I've got a deal," Eoghan says around a fag, holding his lighter out so Niall can light his own. "I'll quit when the baby comes. I've been weaning off 'em."

"Fair enough."

"I think so." Eoghan takes a deep inhale, blows it out slow. "Jesus, can you believe?"

"Nah, mate." Niall sucks on his own cigarette. "You ready?"

"Is anyone ever ready?" 

"S'pose not." Niall stares into the dark back garden.

Eoghan sighs out a cloud of smoke. "Way I see it is, like. I wasn't ready to be with Laura, and then I was. Wasn't ready to get married, and then I did. I figure this'll be the same. You never think you're ready til it happens, and then you just- figure it out."

They're both quiet for a minute. Niall wants to take the mick at Eoghan's philosophizing, but his chest feels strange and tight. Numbly, he taps ash off the end of his fag.

Eoghan breaks the silence with a sheepish laugh. "Of course, I also got so bloody plastered last weekend that I puked all over the kitchen and Laura made me sleep on the sofa for two nights. So what the hell do I know, right?"

"You serious?"

"Oh yeah. Went out with a couple mates from uni. They had to pour me into the fucking cab at the end of the night. Laura was _furious_."

"You idiot."

"I know." Eoghan chuckles. "How are _you_ doin', mate? Feel like I haven't heard from you much."

Niall shrugs. "I'm alright. Fine."

"Yeah?"

Niall nods slowly. 

"Good." Eoghan thumps his knee. "Well, we miss you up here, lad. Laura'd be chuffed if you ever moved back."

"Not you, though?" Niall snorts.

"Oh, shut it. Course I would." Eoghan ashes the fag. "Just, I get it, though. Living somewhere else. Home's home, always, but it's good to get away."

Niall stares at the fag burning down in his hand. "Yeah," he says vaguely.

Eoghan sighs, and digs in his pocket. "One more?"

Niall shrugs. "Yeah, alright."

"Good lad," Eoghan says, passing over another fag. "We'll get lung cancer together, it'll be class."

Niall rolls his eyes, lets Eoghan light his cigarette off his own.

\---

By the time they're done, the house is mostly empty, and Laura drags Eoghan out the front door, whinging about her ankles.

Brez is in the kitchen, doing dishes, and Niall cautiously peeks inside, hoists himself up onto the counter. Bressie looks over at him, unimpressed, and then back down.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Niall says, chewing his lip. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Bressie says, drying the inside of a mug with a tight jerk of his hand.

Niall swallows. He can taste smoke in his throat. “Truth is I haven’t been doing that well.”

Bressie stops, and shuts the sink off. He looks over at Niall. “With anxiety?”

Niall’s throat tightens. He nods, not looking at him.

Bressie's voice changes, goes soft. "What's going on, love?”

“Panic things,” Niall says, still staring very determinedly at his knees. “And, like. Drinking a bit, I guess. And- I dunno. Just feeling pretty low.”

Bressie leans against the counter, watching him. Niall forces his eyes up.

“How long’s that been going on?”

Niall shrugs. “A while. Since- since I left for LA.”

Bressie nods, slowly. “And when’s the last time you went to therapy?”

Christ, Niall doesn’t feel like telling him that. He coughs. “A while ago.”

“Niall…”

“It wasn’t, like. It didn’t feel like I needed it.” Niall knows that sounds weak. “When I was with Cooper, like-”

“Therapy’s for _you_ ,” Bressie says quietly. “Can’t put your health stuff on whoever you’re seeing. It’s just health, Niall. Like getting your knee fixed.”

“It’s not like getting my fucking knee fixed.”  

“C’mon, you know what I meant. It’s just something you’ve got to do and not be embarrassed about. Doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“I’m not embarrassed.” Niall’s cheeks are hot, which doesn’t help his point.

“You going back to Melbourne after this?”

Niall shrugs again. “Think so.”

Bressie watches him, dark-eyed. “Promise you’ll find someone to talk to then. For me.”

“Thought I couldn’t put my health stuff on anyone else.”

Bressie sighs. “For yourself, then. I know it’s hard. I know you don’t want to.”

“I do,” Niall says, and it comes out choked. He looks away. “I want to, it’s just.”

“It’s just hard,” Bressie repeats, after a quiet second. “I know.”

“Want to feel better.” Niall sniffs in hard, clears his froggy throat.

“I know, mate.” Bressie pats his back a couple times, warm and firm. “And you deserve to feel better, you know that.”

Niall doesn’t want to get into what he deserves. He sniffs again, rubs his nose and slides off the counter. “I should head out.”

“Alright, chief.” Bressie pulls him into a hug, and Niall squeezes him hard, mashes his face into Bressie’s solid shoulder and shudders out a breath.

Bressie pulls back, scritching his fingers over the back of Niall’s neck. “Y’know you can talk to me, right? Whenever.”

“I know.”

“I mean it, though.” Bressie lets him go. “I care about you. I care if you’re alright. Don't ever think I don't care just cos you're not in London."

Niall knows. He knows. He has to go, though, cos Bressie going on about how much he cares is gonna do something weird to Niall’s head, make him cry, and he doesn’t want to. He’s fucking sick of crying.

“I know, Brez,” he mumbles again, ducking his head. 

“Still mean what I said to your da, you know. Told him I’d look after you.”

“I’m not a kid, Brez,” Niall sighs as Bressie knuckles over his head and pinches his cheek, eyes crinkling. “Shut up, you bastard.”

“I know you’re not. Still.” Bressie watches him for a minute. “Promise you’ll ring if you need to, alright?”

“Alright.” Niall ducks up to press a kiss to Bressie’s cheek. “G’night, head.”

“Night, Horan.”

He lets himself out, unlocks the BMW and slides inside. It's a half-hour drive back to the Humes' place, but he turns Radio One up, loud, and doesn't let himself think. It's Annie Mac on, laughing over the last notes of a song, warm voice so homey and familiar it makes Niall's eyes prickle. He sniffs in hard and doesn't let them spill over.

\---

The house is dark and quiet. Niall drops the keys on the counter and makes his way upstairs, pausing to check in on Alaia, snuffling peacefully in her bed.

He stops halfway through getting undressed, when a lamp flicks on and Marvin says, gravelly and slow, "Niall?"

Niall stops with his t-shirt halfway off. He lowers it. "Shit, I thought you were Roch."

"She slept over at Una's." Marvin yawns. "You comin' to bed?"

Niall tugs at the hem of his shirt. "I can go in the guest room-"

"Don't be stupid, c'mon," Marvin mumbles, lifting the duvet.

Niall takes the invitation. He tugs his shirt off and crawls into bed, reaching for a pillow to shove under his head.

"How's your crew then?" Marvin says, sleep-slurred, reaching over to settle a warm hand on Niall's belly. Niall shivers against him, feeling Marvin exhale against his neck.

"Good," he says. "They say hello."

"Mm, good." Marvin kisses his shoulder, fingers dragging up over Niall's stomach to grip a handful of his hip.

"Good night," Niall says, trying not to move under Marvin's hand. He thinks Marvin's asleep, until he coughs and rumbles out, "So, Roch said you split up with your boyfriend."

"Yeah."

"That's shit. I'm sorry, mate." He pats Niall's hip. "I liked him, he was solid."

Niall stares into the darkness. "Yeah."

"You'll find someone, lad."

Niall huffs a laugh. "Cheers, Marv."

"And if not, you can always come back here." Marvin laughs against his neck. "Roch would probably love if you moved in."

"Sorry your wife likes me more than you," Niall says, grinning, and Marvin digs his fingers into Niall's side, tickling him til Niall gasps out a helpless laugh and wriggles away. He rolls onto his back, breathless.

"You think about moving back at all?" Marvin says, after a moment of quiet.

"I dunno." He loves London, always, but there's something about being here that makes him feel about eighteen years old, and coddled to the point of suffocation. He doesn't know how to say that out loud, though, especially when Marvin's part of that feeling. "Maybe someday."

Marvin hums sleepily, just as the bedroom door opens a crack.

"Daddy?" Alaia calls, voice wobbly.

Marvin props himself up on his elbow, yawning. "What is it, baby?"

"I had a bad dream," Alaia says. Niall can see her now, clutching a stuffed pink teddy bear and looking pale. "Can I come in bed with you and-"

She peers at Niall suspiciously. "Why're you in mummy and daddy's bed?"

"Uhh-"

"Uncle Niall had a bad dream too, baby," Marvin says, beckoning for her. "C'mere, you can lay down for a bit. Just tonight, cos mummy's not home."

Alaia clambers up onto the bed and cuddles between them, pulling insistently at Niall's pillow until he gives it up and grabs for another one.

"What was your dream about, baby girl?" Marvin murmurs, taking Alaia's small hand in his.

"Monsters." Alaia sniffles. "A big mean monster who wanted to eat me and you and mummy."

"That's no good." Marvin yawns. "Well, I promise there're no monsters in the house."

"How d'you know?"

"I know cos- cos we hired someone to check. He came to our house, and looked everywhere, and there weren't any monsters. We're monster-free."

"When did he come?"

"Umm. Last year."

"Last year?"

"Yeah. You were at school."

Alaia sighs heavily. "Fine."

She rolls over til she's face to face with Niall, and he laughs when she scrunches her nose at him.

"Uncle Niall?" she asks. "What was your bad dream about?"

"Uh, it was - about… sharks."

She looks incredulous. "Sharks?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of shark? Did it bite you?"

"Baby, we're gonna go to sleep," Marvin cuts in, reaching out to pull her back against his chest. She nestles into him.

"I was just _asking_ cos you and mummy said it's good to talk about your bad dreams-"

"I know, sweetheart, but we're all really really sleepy."

"I'm not that sleepy-"

"Alaia. Sh-sh, it's bedtime."

She pouts at Niall from under Marvin's arm, and finally closes her eyes with a huff.

"Love you," Marvin mumbles, kissing her head. "No monsters, I promise. Or sharks."

Alaia sighs. "Love you, daddy."

"G'night, Alaia-Mai."

Niall watches them both for a minute, their identical furrowed brows, and then he shuts his eyes and tries to sleep.

\---

His flight's mid-morning on Sunday. Rochelle hugs him for a solid thirty seconds, squeezing him while Alaia whines and circles around them, trying to burrow in.

Niall drops to his knees to say goodbye to her.

"Be good, alright, princess?" he says, squeezing her as she throws her arms around him. She sighs into his neck, and he's hit with a sudden wave of affection. It's just mental, how she was so little once, just a chubby baby toddling around, making everyone laugh.

Now she's older and taller and so _clever_ , whispering against Niall's ear, "Promise you'll come back?"

Niall pulls away. "I promise, love."

She narrows her eyes skeptically. "Okay."

"I promise," Niall laughs, and when he looks up Rochelle's watching him watery-eyed.

"Roch," he says quietly, as Alaia kisses his cheek and runs off, already over it.

"Sorry," she says, sniffling. "Just- it's good to see you, I dunno. I worry."

"Don't worry, c'mon, I'm fine."

"I know, babe." She rubs at her eyes. "Just feels like, sometimes. I dunno. Feels like you keep trying to get away from the people who love you, sometimes. If that's not completely mental."

Niall goes cold in his middle. He looks away.

"God, sorry," she says, shaking her head. "I'm just gonna miss you. Ignore me."

"Jeez, Roch, I'm not going off to war." Niall lets her kiss his cheek, cupping his jaw gently with one hand. He can feel the cool tips of her fingernails against his skin.

"Oh, shut up." Rochelle plants another kiss, low on his jaw this time. "Text more, will you?"

"I will."

"It's really _bloody_ easy for you to ignore us all the way down in Australia. So don't."

"I never did!"

"Mmhm, sure." She kisses his mouth, very gently, and lets go of his cheek. "Have a safe flight, my darling."

"You too. Or- you know what I mean. Thanks."

Rochelle huffs a laugh. "Love you."

"Love you too."

He's very still for a moment when Rochelle shuts the door. Finally the cab gives a pitiful little honk, and Niall grabs his bag and heads for the street.

\---

Niall tips his head against the thick plastic window, hand wrapped around his empty drink, knee jiggling.

"Sir?" the flight attendant asks, leaning over the woman sleeping next to him. "Would you like another scotch?"

"No, thanks," he says, forcing a smile over at her, and as soon as she's gone he looks back out the window. He's done this flight about a million times - Heathrow to LAX - but it's been a while. He used to do it on a private jet.

The thought makes him laugh. Christ, his life's weird. It sticks out more now that he's lived in Melbourne, with normal people. People who grew up and went to school and got jobs without being a popstar when they were teenagers.

Maybe there's no use in trying to be like those people. Maybe LA or London is just where Niall belongs. Even if it doesn't feel like what he wants, maybe it's just - the only thing he knows how to do.

Niall sniffs in hard, squeezes his thigh with one hand, thinks back on what Nick said, that next morning as he made them tea and scrounged up breakfast from the eggs and wilting vegetables in his fridge.

_Don't have romantic advice, really,_ he'd said, cracking an egg into the pan. _But it's just one boy. There's like a billion out there. If he makes you happy, be happy. If he doesn't, move on. You're young, nothing's got to be forever._

Niall knows that. It's just. He tries to picture himself being with someone else- properly, like living with them, sleeping with them - and there's nothing. It's just Cooper. No one knows him better.

Maybe that's cos he was Niall's first. Or maybe they're actually- maybe they're actually in love, and Nick doesn't know what he's talking about, and that’s why he’s thirty-six and sleeps next to his dog at night.

He shuts his eyes, but he can't relax, so he digs out his phone a minute later. He's got a text off Zayn, from earlier in the morning.

_Nialler sorry we missed you, you better come back soon. Farah says "I love you Uncle Niall" :-)_

_How was the trip??_

Niall lets out a breath.

_Was good mate im sorry we didnt get together!! Next time i swear. Tell farah i miss her ! The trip was good. Don't think im staying in LA for long just need to wrap up a few things w/ the album_

_Back to LDN then or what?_ , Zayn sends back.

Niall chews his bottom lip.

_No_ , he taps out, slowly. He lets it rest in his lap, looks out the window again, but all he can see are puffy clouds, maddeningly blank. He looks back down at his phone.

_Goin back to melbourne. Time to go home and sort my shit out I think haha. Love you X_

He hits send, clicks his phone off, and curls against the window to sleep.

 


End file.
